”In a few years’ time the needless noise-maker will be an outlaw from sober and intelligent society: a rude uncouth creature who will find it to his interest to mend his ways. We may predict that in a few years’ time the delicate fabric of our bodies and minds will no longer be menaced and mutilated by the brutality of unnecessary noise.” (Anti-Noise League, 1935)

In the early 1930s, anti-noise groups and commissions worked to tackle noise as a “social and civic evil” (Henry Richards, 1935), “menace” (F.C. Bartlett, 1934), and an “enemy” (Bartlett). These efforts followed decades of prior advocacy, as citizens and organizations in cities around the world had been clamoring for relief from the increasingly disruptive sounds of the modern industrial age.

Especially in cities, unwelcome noises from automobiles, horns, construction equipment, and radios were viewed as infringing on the health and quality of life of the populace. One anti-din group, the Society for the Suppression of Unnecessary Noise, was formed by Julia Barnett Rice in New York City in December 1906. Initially spurred into action by the “unnecessary tooting of whistles on the river” (per a 1907 New York Tribune account), she organized the society to address “every form of noise that jars the nerves and is not essential to the commerce of the city.” Her work called attention to riverboat sounds and led to the passage of the Bennet Act of 1907, which focused on abating river and harbor noise. At the end of the society’s initial meeting, phonograph records of city noise were played as evidence of the work to be done and as an appeal for more noise restrictions.

In describing this time period, Raymond W. Smilor (Cacophony at 34th and 6th: The Noise Problem in America, 1900-1930) explains that “the noise problem manifested an underlying fear of many Americans. Reacting to the pressure of the new industrialized society, they began to question seriously the progress the nation has made as a civilization.” He points out that activists initially focused on tackling noise through legal means, as was the case with Julia Barnett Rice’s efforts with both national and local regulations. By 1912, the Society for the Suppression of Unnecessary Noise (which had high profile participants, including Mark Twain) helped prompt quiet zones near hospitals and schools in New York City. A flurry of studies, societies, and municipal efforts in the late 1920s and early 1930s signaled a multi-faceted approach toward the problem of noise. Noise was seen as a threat to hearing, sleep, overall health, and worker efficiency - some even linked noise to neurosis. As Smilor argues, “although noise had been present in all civilizations, the din at the turn of the century appeared a unique phenomenon of industrialization. Anti-noise advocates believed that noise denoted industrial adolescence.”

In 1929, New York City’s Commissioner of Health, Shirley Wynne, created a Noise Abatement Commission, apparently the first such commission in the United States, in order to address growing concerns about the din of the city. The number of noise nuisance complaints to the health department was growing, and the agency did not feel that it had adequate regulatory tools to address them. During this period, the Commission pointed to the “mounting roar and crash of traffic, building, manufacture and sundry other noises which have accompanied the growth of the city.” In response to this “emergency situation,” the commission's mandate was to study unacceptable sounds and come up with ways to abate them. Following 8 months of work and advocacy, the commission published a 300+ page report, City Noise, about its efforts, progress, and recommendations for a “quieter city.”

VIDEO: [New York street scenes and noises--outtakes. Noise abatement via University of South Carolina. Moving Image Research Collections]

City Noise was issued as a book “...so that all may read and understand how to do their part in eliminating noise,” and that call for collective buy-in and action was a key part of the commission’s work. In addition to launching scientific studies of noise (a special motortruck measured noise throughout the city), collaborating with representatives from various industries (including transportation and construction) to work on noise dampening solutions (such as noiseless subway turnstiles), and evaluating existing noise ordinances (and realizing reform was needed); the commission also reached out to New Yorkers to hear their noise grievances.

A Noise Abatement questionnaire was printed in local newspapers, asking residents to mark off the type, location and time of day for the noises that they found the most annoying. These questionnaires garnered more than 11,000 complaints, which the commission passed along to corresponding agencies to investigate. Traffic noises topped the list, followed by transportation (elevated, street cars, subway), and then radios (in homes, on streets and in stores). These same types of noises were also measured by the traveling truck. Interestingly, even though traffic was high on citizen lists of noise annoyances, some of the loudest noises in the city were from construction, namely riveting and blasting. Automobile horns, which New Yorkers did list extremely high on their list of complaints, were found to vary considerably in their loudness, with some audible 10 miles away. As one remedy, the commission recommended an amendment to the Sanitary Code banning “unnecessary sounding of horns.” Similarly, amendments were made related to “loud or excessive noise from radios, etc.”

While some noise issues could be mitigated by engineering innovations or laws, that was only part of the solution. The public needed to be made aware of the problem and given advice on how they could help. To address this, the Noise Abatement Commission utilized radio in a few different ways. It broadcast a series of “radio talks'' on topics ranging from “Noise as a Health Problem” to “What Can the Citizens of New York Do about Noise?”, and also enlisted stations to “educate radio listeners in noise etiquette.” In response to complaints about loud radios at night, the commission asked radio stations to play announcements at 10:30pm “requesting listeners to remember that their radios might be disturbing to the neighbors” and asking them to turn down the volume “as an act of good sportsmanship.”

The work of the Noise Abatement Commission was seen as groundbreaking, and the commission was aware that its activities were inspiring other communities. It published the text of its radio talks in City Noise “as a suggestion to other cities that plan to wage a campaign against noise.” It is certain that other cities did take note. In 1932, Wayne Gard wrote “The Drive Against Din” for the North American Review, examining the progress of noise abatement commissions. He lauded the report of the Noise Abatement Commission of New York City, calling it “almost a Bible to crusaders against din.”

The Noise Abatement Commission disbanded in 1932 following economic and political challenges during the Great Depression. Despite this, much of its work and recommendations were carried forth by subsequent city administrators. Media and cultural historian Lilian Radovac writes that, “Although the NAC was formally disbanded, the noise control efforts it called for did not cease during the Depression but instead shifted course, reorienting from capital-intensive measures that depended on private-sector investment such as architectural and industrial design toward public-sector strategies such as licensing and policing. In fact, it is precisely this shift from private to public, and from preventative to punitive, that has characterized the ebbs and flows of urban noise control ever since.”

Noise commissions were launched in other cities around this time, including Boston and Chicago. The Boston Noise Commission published a slim report of its incipient work in 1932, and while bearing some similarities in approach to New York’s effort, there are a few notable differences. While Boston was concerned with increased noise and its detrimental effects on health and worker efficiency, it also worried about financial and aesthetic implications. The Boston Noise Commission pointed out that “increase in noise in certain parts of a city decreases the desirability of that section,” leading to lessening of property values and taxes. The report added that “Noise is unpleasant and irritating, rendering any section where it is existent disagreeable and to be avoided. Beauty, which we seek to enhance in our cities, is marred by noise.”

Some of the most lively writing about the scourge of noise circa 1930 comes from the Anti-Noise League out of Great Britain. Sir Henry Richard, Chairman of its Executive Committee, wrote in 1935 that “...not the most remote of villages is secure, and from the very heavens descends the roar of the aeroplane.” He mocks young jazz-loving diners, saying “as an appetiser a saxophone is even more desirable than a cocktail,”  and criticizes road trippers “who demand a wireless set to mitigate the solitude and quiet of the motor car.” He acknowledges that public opinion is vital to the cause, saying, “So much of the evil arises from lack of consideration and patience.” To that end, the Anti-Noise League held an exhibition and conference in 1935, showcasing acoustic research tools, noise-dampening inventions (noiseless typewriters, rubber horse shoes, super-silent passenger lift) and expert reports. In an accompanying publication, its chairman spoke optimistically of a future utopia in which “...the delicate fabric of our bodies and minds will no longer be menaced and mutilated by the brutality of unnecessary noise.”

It’s fascinating to look back at these speculative ideas about a quiet future. In many ways, the world has not changed; some of the noises that seemed most troubling in the 1930s continue to rankle citizens today. What’s different is that now there is much more ongoing research about noise and specialized efforts for abatement. Airports, like San Francisco’s (SFO) have strategies in place to lower nighttime noise. New York City has an even more developed Noise Code, which is enforced by The Department of Environmental Protection and the Police Department. Industrial design has evolved such that offices, factories and homes are quieter. As humans navigating a world full of noise, we also have more tools, from noise-canceling headphones to soundproofing for our homes. We have access to myriad resources for information about noise in our cities and in our airspace, with public agencies providing data about noise levels and complaints. Along with that, it’s typically easier to report hyper-specific complaints regarding noises that we find troubling - be it through 311 in many cities to the noise app for SFO.

Although we have seemingly more control over noise - as far as protecting ourselves from it and being able to easily report it; we can’t escape it entirely. While noise has been increasingly studied and regulated, it’s a very personal and subjective concept; which noise scholars of the 1930s acknowledged. “Noise is any sound which is treated as a nuisance,” wrote F.C. Bartlett in his 1934 book The Problem of Noise. Debates about what constitutes an annoying, unnecessary or nuisance noise continue today, where battles over peace and quiet seek out new (and longtime) enemies. From other people’s children happily playing, to loud outdoor concerts heard across town, to the high-pitched popping of balls being whacked during a pickleball game, to the strange whistling of the Golden Gate Bridge, the noises of our modern life stir up strong emotions, as future sounds no doubt will a century from now.

It’s complicated. But control seems to be at the root of the problem of noise. Many sounds that we find annoying in one context are enjoyable in another. While we might love going to concerts, we probably do not want to hear the booming bass of a faraway show drifting into our bedroom at 3am. I was struck by Bartlett’s point that our strong reactions to certain noises might be “a sign, sometimes, of a deeper social distress.” That helps me to understand that there’s likely a bigger backstory with the cranky neighbor who is angered by the sounds of happy children. But there are also intense noises that I’d argue are universally irritating, like the drone of jackhammers ripping up my street for days on end. Does my annoyance at that noise reveal larger troubles with my psyche? Perhaps not. But I do have some agency as far as controlling my reaction to the situation. I can leave. I can embrace the noise. While writing this piece, my home’s air ducts were getting cleaned by a crazy loud industrial vacuum called The Beast. My terrified cat hid under the bed and I did my best to continue my work. Eventually, I got up and made a recording of the cacophony, recognizing an opportunity to capture audio and also reframe the sound - switching my reaction from aggravation to intrigue.

For those of us accustomed to strange music or sound art, we might be able to trick ourselves into reinterpreting whirs and beeps and pounding as experimental noise; diminishing our anxiety. That worked for me with the air duct soundscape and also many years ago when I was inside a loud, chirping MRI machine. I managed to find joy in some typically stressful situations. We can learn a lot from children in that respect. When my 2-year-old walked past a construction site and proclaimed that the drilling noises sounded like KFJC (the often noise-oriented radio station where I DJ), I felt happy and proud that they understood the complexity and subjective nature of both noise and music. Kids have perhaps the most open ears of all, reminding us that we can take a playful approach to sound. And that even the most jaded of us noise-hating city dwellers should try to remain curious about the screeching, banging, and rumbling that’s all around us.

(Sounds throughout the piece recorded by Author, Jennifer Waits. Additional Production by One Thousand Bird’s Andrew Tracy)